


Good Morning, Sunshine

by synvamp



Category: RWBY
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Fluff, Light and soppy, M/M, Saccharine sweet, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24854254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synvamp/pseuds/synvamp
Summary: Some early morning snuggles in the sunshine. Clover admits that a certain little storm cloud might just be the light of his life.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 19
Kudos: 75





	Good Morning, Sunshine

\---xxx---

0800 RDO

Rostered Day Off.

Clover _lived_ for this.

His bedroom window caught the first thin rays of morning light. In the winter months the sun rose late, even here in this gilded cage suspended in the clouds.

Those first tender hints of daylight, pushing back the darkness. Pushing back against the past and all the doubts which still clawed at him when four am thumped the air from his gasping lungs. Those first gentle, warming rays of hope.

At first they only touched his feet, the bedclothes warming as he stretched his toes. Slowly the sweeping arc of day rolled up his reclined form. Warming his legs, caressing his back and then, if he was blessed long enough, gilding his hair with promises-of-summer gold.

He loved what his years of training had done to his body. Once he woke, he could stay perfectly still for hours, just living in this moment... these few fragile hours which fate had gifted him. Qrow always woke second. Sometimes in these blessed minutes he could kid himself that Qrow would never wake at all. That they could spend eternity just wrapped in each other’s arms. Qrow’s breath would be the anchor that kept him from falling too far, back into his own fears and self-recriminations. Qrow’s heat would be the forgiveness that he couldn’t grant himself… but that he could finally believe that he deserved when he looked into those crimson eyes.

_What could be better than lying in your arms?_

_And if there is something better, well, I don’t want it. I don’t want anything more, or less, than this._

At the ache in his chest, his arm flexed just a hint. The movement an echo of his thoughts that made him pull Qrow just that little bit closer.

He looked down at the long, dark lashes which fluttered lightly as Qrow stirred on his chest. He often woke like this, with dark hair ruffling against skin, Qrow’s arm thrown over him in a casual embrace. It took every bit of his training not to close his arms tight and cling to this wiry form like his life depended on it.

In a reckless, soppy flight of fancy, he wondered for a moment if it did.

That’s what he is to me, a _lifeline._

It had been so long since he felt that he was more than the uniform. More than the chain of command. More than What You Can Do For Your Country.

But to Qrow, he wasn’t even that.

He was just warm arms in the sunshine on a slow morning. One last hour before we get up and then just _one more_. And if he doubted that his luck could have got him this far, or that he deserved any of this bliss after… _everything_ … then Qrow would just double over with laughter.

“You, lucky charm? You Shouldn’t Do That You Know,” he’d chuckle, his impression of Clover’s voice getting more accurate every time, “You’re not allowed to deflect. If there’s one thing I hate it’s a hypocrite so I’m afraid you’re going to have to shut up and take it.” And then he’d pour out compliments like summer rain. That Clover was sweet, strong, giving, loving, supportive, caring… beautiful…

And he’d hide his head in his hands and just huff with laughter like a shy teenager. The giddy rush of confidence would make him gasp that this was more than he could possibly deserve and Qrow would hit him playfully and tell him he hadn’t been paying attention.

“I’m not saying it twice, lover boy. It was soppy enough the first time.”

Qrow’s stubble scraped across his chest and he looked down into crimson eyes. The long lashes blinked sleepily up at him and the soft lips curled in a laconic smile, “Morning.”

_So happy to have you in my arms. So sad that you have to leave._

“Why can’t we just stay here forever?” Clover asked, the words escaping before he could weigh them, consider them and then, likely, discard them.

“Wouldn’t that get messy?” Qrow wrinkled his nose.

Clover chuckled at the romance of the man and then realised that he’d gone from melancholy to laughing. _Again._

“I guess it would,” he admitted, his chest tight.

Long fingers traced the lines of muscle on his chest, “We don’t have to get up just yet…” Qrow whispered as he pulled himself up onto his elbows and dipped in for the first lazy morning kiss.

“One more hour?” Clover whispered back, into that sacred space in the inch of warm breath they shared.

“And maybe one more, after that…” Qrow smiled.

_And maybe forever, if you’d let me._

And in that moment Clover knew that he did want more, after all.

And maybe if he was ever going to get what he wanted, he might just have to shut up and take it.

So he pulled those sharp hips towards him and held that strong jaw in his hands.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“About time,” Qrow grinned.

Clover smiled into the kiss, as he felt the melancholy sadness melt away into morning sunshine.

_Every time._

\---xxx---


End file.
